


Who You've Become

by hiddenhippo



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Attempted Suicide, Episode: s01e11 Rôti, Hannibal might have feelings depending on whether or not I was able to write them in well, Hurt Will Graham, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, People cry, Sick Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:15:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenhippo/pseuds/hiddenhippo
Summary: In that moment, he thinks he understands. He pulls the gun from where it’s still pointed towards Gideon and puts it under his chin. Now, he can finally be rid of Garret Jacob Hobbs.--Light up by his fever, Will's sense of self becomes blurred with another who haunts him.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 199





	Who You've Become

**Author's Note:**

> i literally wrote this in like thirty minutes just because i wanted to. i am not a writer and i am not a good writer. but alas here we are. un-beta'd and nearly 3k of ??? whatever this is. enjoy.

Will watches Abel Gideon study Alana Bloom by her desk. She’s rustling through books, completely unaware of the danger outside her window. Gideon is quiet, still. If it were anyone else, the action might be one of respect, but Will knows better. He knows what Gideon is here to do, and why he followed him. 

He shivers slightly, fevered state at odds with the environment. Heat rushes through his body despite the winter temperatures. Snow falls peacefully to the ground, a juxtaposition to the gun Will holds in his hands. It’s almost poetic, Will thinks. 

Gideon ends up breaking the silence, “I don’t know if I’ll feel like myself again. I don’t know if there’s a self left to feel like. I spent so much time believing I was him it got harder to remember who I was when I wasn’t him.” 

Will breaks his attention away from where Alana is now sitting at her desk. “Who are you now?” He turns and looks at Gideon. Who he thought was Gideon. He knows that’s Gideon. So why does he see Hobbs in front of him? Will feels the fear shoot down his spine. It’s been months since he shot Hobbs in his kitchen, months being haunted by Hobb’s face, by Abigail, by the phrase that repeats in his head over and over again. See. 

“You,” Garret Jacob Hobbs says.

Will can’t help but feel horrified.

“We’re both here,” Hobbs continues, turning his attention back to Alana, still visible through the window. “Looking at her. Just those kind of people who shouldn’t be in a relationship. You and I are already committed. Hard to be with another person when you can’t get out of your own head.”

“I want to get out,” Will whispers. 

“We all want thinks we can’t have,” snarks Hobbs. Or is it Gideon? Will can’t remember. Who was he here after? “If I kill her, like he would kill her, I wonder if I could understand him better, hear the cold drips in his darkness, watch the world through his red haze.” Gideon? Hobbs? Turns, his gaze penetrating, as if seeing Will’s confusion. A slightly pitying expression shows on his face, the milky white of Hobbs’ dead eyes keep Will nearly frozen in place. Stuck by horror being this close to his nightmare. Will thumbs the trigger of his gun. 

“I wonder if then,” Gideon finishes, “You could finally understand who you’ve become.”

Will doesn’t hesitate. He feels a sense of déjà vu, pulling a gun out and shooting Hobbs again. This time he doesn’t pull the trigger ten times. The body drops immediately. The sense of relief filling Will’s body is immediately offset when he looks at who is in front of him. He suddenly feels warmer, seeing Gideon’s body in front of him. In the back of his mind, he’s further relieved by the lack of Garret Jacob Hobbs’ body in the snow. 

That relief is suddenly overtaken by confusion. And for a brief moment Will forgets. Forgets his name, his dogs, his life. Finally understand who you’ve become. In that moment, he thinks he understands. He pulls the gun from where it’s still pointed towards Gideon and puts it under his chin. Now, he can finally be rid of Garret Jacob Hobbs. 

\--

Alana startles from where she’s focused at her desk. Papers covering the surface and books hidden beneath notes upon notes. She’s too familiar with the sound of gunshots to be able to comprehend it as anything else. Without thinking twice, Alana shoots up from her table and runs out of the front of the house, the sting of the cold barely reaches her, fueled by the adrenaline running through her body. 

She knew Gideon was going to come after her. But the last thing Alana expected to see was an unmoving body on the ground and Will standing above it. She jerks forwards as Will starts to move the gun, and her blood runs cold when she sees him nestle it under his chin. She’s all too familiar with what that position means, and how this might end. 

“Will!” She barely recognizes the scream as her own. Will’s head turns towards her, dislodging the gun from under his chin and a gunshot goes off. 

Alana stops in her tracks, watching in horror as Will falls to the ground. She feels wetness on her face, shivering as the cold suddenly seeps through her vest. Vaguely, Alana knows its tears, but she can’t let herself feel it yet. Hannibal would chastise her for repressing her emotions as a psychiatrist, he’ll probably forgive her, she thinks. 

Somehow, between the panic, the shivering, and the fear, Alana manages to pull her phone out and dial 911. 

Somehow, she manages to get over to where the two bodies lay, ignoring Gideon’s still moving chest to drop next to Will. 

“No, no, no, no,” she mumbles under her breath. Barely able to keep composure as the snow surrounding Will Graham’s head turns red. She holds is head in her hands, trying to find the wound. In the back of her mind, she still manages to get angry at Jack for letting Will get this far. It’s clear from the clamminess of his skin, sweat drying sticky on his forehead, plastering his hair against his face, that whatever Will is experiencing, is beyond what he was letting on. She had seen him shooting back aspirin whenever he needed it. Fuck even earlier, when Will had come and visited her after class, she thought he felt warm. Upon the remark, Will had brushed it off and swallowed back a pill dry. Now, holding Will’s head in her hands, she feels responsible for not doing something earlier. 

It’s clear the bullet for the most part missed its mark, skimming Will’s ear enough for an obvious gouge and enough blood to be worrying. Alana can’t help but still feel worried as the EMT’s load him into the back of an ambulance, oxygen mask on his face. 

It’s not until the ambulances drive away with both Will and Gideon that Alana feels reality fully hit her. A sob bursts from her mouth as she pulls the phone back up.

“Crawford,” Jack answers. Alana can hear a busy bustle behind him, it’s clear he only answered the phone because it was her calling. 

Another sob bursts forward, Alana can hear Jack on the other end, attention fully diverted to the person on the other end of the phone. “Alana, what happened? Is it Will?”

She covers her mouth with her hand, attempting to keep the sobs in. “Alana! What happened?” 

“It’s Will,” she gasps out. Her body heaving in attempts to get oxygen. “Jack, Will shot Gideon.”

“Is Will alright?” Jack asks. Alana can feel another sob bubbling in her throat. “Alana, is Will alright?” Jack’s voice is louder now. A thinly veiled current of panic can be heard under his voice. 

Alana forces herself to take deep breaths. “He’s being taken to the hospital, Jack. You pushed him too far.” 

She hangs up, cutting off the slew of yells from the other end, panicked and confused. She goes back to the house, grabbing her coat and keys, before getting into her car and following the ambulance’s trail. 

\--

Hannibal receives the call only an hour after Gideon and Will ran off. It’s not unexpected, but he puts down his scalpel and pencil, brushing away the slivers of pencil sharpening’s and picks up the phone right away. 

He had felt confident earlier, despite the minor seizure, about how the night was going to play out. In fact, Hannibal could help but feel pleased, knowing Will brought Gideon to his house, when Gideon was asking for the Ripper. He knew it was only a matter of time before Will truly saw him, and realized who, or what, he was. Apparently, Will already did know, whether he was aware of it or not. 

As for Gideon, Hannibal had already started making plans for him. 

“Alana, are you ok?” Hannibal asks. Anything else would be a little too suspicious, considering he was the one who guided Gideon to where she was. 

The first thing that started a sinking feeling in his stomach was the sniffle he heard from the other end. 

“It’s Will, Hannibal.”

His body went cold, teeth clenching. This wasn’t what he had expected. Perhaps, he had misread the situation. Hannibal had felt so confident earlier sending Gideon to Alana, that Will would follow and handle the situation. It was all part of the plan. This, the ear, the fever. Everything was going just perfectly. So how had he misread this. Hannibal stood up from his chair, prepared to grab his coat. 

“Alana, what happened?” Hannibal forced himself to keep his voice even, not allowing himself to betray any fear. 

Another sniffle. “He, um, he shot Gideon”

Ok, that Hannibal could handle.

“And then he shot himself.”

That, Hannibal thought as he fell back into his chair, was not something he could handle. 

He knew Alana was still talking on the other end, but he was paralyzed. He had been in such perfect control this entire time. Every single plan had been completed flawlessly. Why would Will do such a thing? The fear and panic that Hannibal had been doing his best to control released itself. He could feel his heart rate speeding up, his sight was blurring from tears. 

Will was, too important to be gone now. Hannibal didn’t want to admit just how attached he had gotten to the man. He knew Alana and Jack had their suspicions. As far as Hannibal knew, the enchantment had been one sided, but not hidden well enough. He knew from when Will had come over, panicking about kissing Alana that this was a hope that would need to be destroyed completely. 

Hannibal was ok with many a thing. But if Will were to feel anything for Hannibal, it would have been the result of his own accord, not due to Hannibal’s manipulation. A small standard, yet one Hannibal and tried to make himself follow to the best of his abilities. It would make it hurt less in the end. 

Either way, it might not matter at all. Not if Will was gone. Hannibal felt nausea moving up his throat. First Mischa and now – 

“Hannibal are you still there?” Alana’s tinny voice came from the phone, which somehow was now on the floor. Hannibal’s hand now empty. He reached down to grab it. 

“Apologies. Where is Will now?” 

“University of Maryland Medical Center, Hannibal, you –”

“Say no more,” Hannibal hung up. Wasting no time to get out the door and into his car. Betraying himself by praying to any presence out there that Will would be spared. 

It wasn’t often that Hannibal experienced any level of dissociation. He prided himself in being in full control of himself whenever possible. Dissociation was for weaker beings, Will Graham excluded. But if anyone were to ask about the drive to the hospital, Hannibal wouldn’t be able to answer. 

He rushed through the front doors of the hospital, greeted by familiar faces. Alana’s eyes were puffy and red, lips red and raw from biting. 

Jack was hardly any better, guilt had settled into the lines on his face. 

“Jack,” Hannibal asked, voice low in the quiet of the waiting room. “What happened?”

Jack gestured to Alana. “Gideon went to Alana’s, as we had expected. Will had followed him as well. Will had disappeared from the crime scene earlier today, likely with Gideon in tow. No one heard from him until Alana found them outside of her place.”

“What happened to Will, Jack?” Hannibal asked again, quieter.

Jack took a deep breath. Hannibal felt a spark of surprise. Clearly, something that so heavily affects the Head of Behavioral Science at the FBI wouldn’t be good. “Alana said she told you that Will shot himself?”

Hannibal swallowed. “Yes, however I don’t believe I fully understood what she meant.”

“Well,” Jack sighed, unable to make eye contact. “It seems as though Will Graham attempted to do something permanent. To himself.”

He wasn’t dense, Hannibal knew what Jack was trying to say. What Jack was unable to say. 

“There must be some type of mistake?” Hannibal tried. “That doesn’t seem like something Will would do?”

Jack opened his mouth to continue, only to be cut off by Alana’s voice. “He had the gun under his chin, Hannibal. It’s hard to mistake that for anything else.”

Hannibal closed his eyes, attempting to keep composure as rage flowed through his body. Rage at Jack, for pushing Will beyond his abilities. Rage at Alana. And, surprisingly, rage at himself. “You think,” Hannibal swallowed heavily. He didn’t want to say it. “You think Will tried to kill himself?”

“It seems,” Jack whispered. “That that is the case.”

He needed to know. “How badly did he hurt himself?”

“The bullet only hit the outside of his ear. I had yelled his name right before he pulled the trigger and I guess it surprised him enough to dislodge the gun from its original place. If he had turned his head as well it makes sense that’s where the bullet would hit,” Alana reasoned. 

Hannibal let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “So he’s alive.”

“Yes.”

“He’s alive and, for the most part, not life threateningly injured?”

“So it seems,” Jack replied. “However, Will’s temperature was at 105 when he was admitted. White blood cell count is twice as normal. And they still can’t seem to identify the source of the infection. Hopefully, they’ll be able to identify the cause of the infection and it won’t hurt Will’s ability to heal itself from the wound.” 

Hannibal nodded, not offering any reply to the rest of the response. It was only a matter of time now until they discovered the encephalitis. Somehow, Hannibal didn’t feel as upset about that as he expected to be. 

“You mentioned Gideon as well?” Hannibal asked.

Jack nodded. “Even with a 105 degree fever, Will brought Gideon down.” There was a bit of pride audible in his voice.

Alana frowned and stepped forward. Clearly, Hannibal wasn’t the only one who heard it.

“Will is sick,” Alana snapped. “You promised you wouldn’t let him get too close and now he’s in a hospital bed, no visitors until he gets cleared by the doctors, and you have the audacity to remark on his ability to bring down criminals.”

Jack lifted his hands. “Alana, that wasn’t meant to –”

“I know what you meant,” Alana sneered. Hannibal couldn’t help but feel surprised. Alana Bloom so rarely showed anger in public. “I don’t want to hear it. You didn’t have to see what I did.”

“I’m not discounting that, Alana,” Jack tried. “I’m just saying—”

“I know, Jack,” Alana interrupted. “I know. But if I have to hear you say it, god help what I do next.”

Jack, ever the smart man, kept his mouth shut. 

\--

It wasn’t until hours later that a nurse finally came by, calling out Will Graham’s name in hopes of finding a family waiting for him. Jack had left for the office nearly two hours previously, leaving Alana and Hannibal to wait. Exhausted by the stress of the day, Alana had passed out in the chair. Leaving Hannibal alone to his own thoughts. 

At the sound of Will’s name, Hannibal shot up from the chair. Walking towards the nurse with purpose. 

“Are you here for Will Graham?” The nurse clarified.

“Yes.”

“We had to run a few tests and go through a quick surgery to fix his ear. He should be all stitched up by now. An MRI showed an extreme cause of anti-NMDAR encephalitis. Mr. Graham is currently on a course of antibiotics to help treat this, along with the fever. Mr. Graham was also mildly malnourished and dehydrated, so we have him on a tube just in case. He should be ready for visitors relatively soon. Would you like to see him?”

Hannibal wasn’t able to keep the relief out of his voice when he agreed. 

However, the sight that he was met with was not one that would leave his mind for a while to come. 

Pale from the blood loss, Will looked tiny, dwarfed in the bed that normally would fit a grown man just find. His head was partially bandaged, a small spot of red visible by the ear from where blood had started to seep through. A tube was down his throat, no doubt delivering food. Hannibal tried not to feel upset at himself for not realizing Will wasn’t eating enough. Tried not to blame himself for not providing well enough. 

The steady beat of the heart monitor and the quiet exhales from the oxygen mask were all that was audible in the room. Will was still in his bed, surrounded by machinery, saline, and medicine bags. A small bag of blood was connected as well. 

Hannibal let out a small sigh of relief. It was one thing to know Will was still alive, it was another to hear his heart beat out loud. 

All that was left now, was to wait.


End file.
